Starlit Fate
by Tiara of Sapphires
Summary: Homeless and alone. Aimless and drifting. When luck and fate bring two together, an entire world can shift on its axis. Alex/J'onn AU
1. Chapter 1

**Nothing like a sweet and delicious AU with slow, slow burn.**

 **Title inspired by the song "It Has Begun" by Starset. Highly recommend that song, "Let It Die", "Carnivore", and "My Demons".**

 **Enjoy!**

 **One time disclaimer, applies to all the chapters: I don't own Supergirl or any of its characters, this is for my own personal enjoyment or whatever blah blah blah.**

…

J'onn was amazed he was able to make it out of Mars' atmosphere without getting blown up.

Amazed. Disappointed. Uncaring. Maybe a combination of all three. He couldn't tell.

But the silence of space closed around him. Nobody was chasing him. The weapons that fired around him had ceased once he got out of range. Nobody tried to chase him in other ships. Perhaps they feared he would turn around and kill as many of them as possible.

He was no murderer, even though the White Martians deserved death and more.

The gods smiled upon him, even as they turned their backs on his people.

Everyone was dead. He knew that. Everyone he ever knew and loved were dead or soon will die.

There were small pockets of his people hiding in the mountains, in caves, like animals. Soon to be hunted down, burned to ash.

He hated himself for leaving. He wished he was dead and that anyone he knew and loved had taken his place. And yet, he stole a ship and fought his way off the planet's surface.

He was familiar with the ship's controls, even though some of the labels were in a dialect—Northern; he was from the Southern half of the planet—he could barely grasp even if he _wasn't_ barely conscious.

M'yri'ah would've teased him about this. She would've told him he should have paid more attention to the finer points of linguistics. It was never his strong suit and she suggested that she teach him. But they never had time, between his work in law enforcement and her work in transcription. She would complain that they never had time.

But, of course, she wasn't there to tell him that. She was dead, like everyone else.

That fact hadn't had time to sink in yet, but, when it did, it felt like everything was too sharp and bright.

There was the silence of space, but also the silence of his mind.

He knew that if he reached out, through the mental links that could stretch from one end of the universe to the other, he wouldn't find his fiancée or anyone on the other end.

J'onn choked on a sob.

"H'ronmeer, save me," he whispered.

Every time he moved his right arm, pain spread from his shoulder down and throughout his body. He didn't want to look there. Or at the numbness on his left hip or the pain blooming from his abdomen.

He glanced down to see black and raw, flayed flesh.

That revelation set in quickly, turning the grief into something hard and nauseating. They burned him. While he ran for the ship, they were chasing after him, using their fire weapons at him. He remembered flashes of pain and stumbling from time to time. Nothing had really registered at the time it happened.

It was a mad dash, live or die.

But he was injured, all the same.

His clothes were likely stuck to the wounds.

He didn't want to think about what kind of pain it would be to pick out the pieces of cloth. He had to remove them before the burns started closing.

J'onn's mother was a healer. He remembered her books on burns. Infection, loss of feeling, permanent scarring, death. All possibilities if he couldn't heal himself.

Martians hated fire and were vulnerable to it. So they went through great lengths to either avoid or quickly treat burns.

But, it was likely the shock would kill him before anything else did. He could feel it now. The cold sweat, the sudden drowsiness.

He set course for the nearest inhabitable planet: Earth, after his shaking fingers messed up the coordinates a couple of time.

It would take months for him to get there and that was time he didn't have.

But he had a backup plan.

J'onn almost blacked out when he stood and hit the wound on his abdomen against the armrest. The ship was on autopilot. Now, he could sleep.

In the back of the ship was a single hypersleep chamber. And that would be his salvation while the ship took him to Earth.

He would sleep, in stasis, for months until the manual controls kicked in again when he got close to the Earth's atmosphere.

He wouldn't die, his injuries wouldn't get any worse, unless the chamber failed mid-flight. Then, he would likely die in his sleep.

So, he would either live or die peacefully.

After several false starts in syncing the timing mechanism to the navigation system, J'onn eased himself into the chamber.

For a brief moment, he wondered if someone had slept in the same pod before he did. He wondered who it was, if they were still alive. The answer was probably a 'no'.

The glass casing closed over him with a hiss.

The temperature dropped and a sweet-smelling gas poured in from a small vent near his head.

He closed his eyes as the hissing lulled him into oblivion.

…

Dreams didn't come to him, but he didn't want them to.

He didn't know what kind of nightmares would meet him when he did dream.

Numbness of hypersleep faded and the pain returned. Not that he was expecting to wake up with everything fixed. He knew the limitations of hypersleep, being kept in biological stasis. It meant nothing changed, for better or worse.

The wounds were still there, just as raw and unhealed as they were the moment he fell asleep. His eye flickered closed again, exhaustion sweeping over him.

A minute, maybe only a handful of seconds later, the ship shook—literally shook—him out of his stupor. He was also painfully aware of the bright flashing lights and frantic beeping.

The ship. Right. He was close to Earth. The autopilot likely shut itself off.

J'onn swore under his breath and forced himself out of the chamber, the pain cutting through the drag and pull of sleep.

He stumbled into the pilot seat, watching as a blue and green mass got bigger and bigger in the viewport.

Earth. Safety. Salvation. Or, at least, a place to die quietly.

The control panel beeped and flashed in warning.

He was about to reach the Earth's atmosphere.

So he sat and waited.

J'onn didn't realize how cold the ship's interior was until he brushed the Earth's atmosphere, getting caught in gravity's pull.

Then, things started moving fast.

Heat seeped into the cockpit, making sweat bead on his forehead, and fear clutched at J'onn.

What if it didn't work? What if one of the engines exploded from the stress and consumed him in flames?

He struggled to keep the ship level as it descended.

If he got the angle wrong, he would die. It would all be over. The last surviving Green Martian would be dead.

The controls shook and shuddered in his hands as he pulled up, trying to save himself. He was going to burn up on reentry if he didn't pull up from the nosedive his ship was tilted into.

He grit his teeth, growling in pain and effort as slowly, slowly, the ship leveled off.

Now, he just had to hope his ship didn't break up and explode on impact with the planet's surface.

Color, landscape scrolled through the viewport and he could see flashes of the Earth's surface. He didn't have much time to appreciate it.

And then the belly of the ship hit the Earth with a sound of metal on rock, shaking J'onn to his core.

It skipped once, twice over the ground, sliding into the dirt for a long distance before coming to a stop.

And everything was still.

With shaking fingers, J'onn removed the restraints and stood. Smoke was trailing from the back of the ship and into the cockpit, so he knew he couldn't stay inside there for long.

J'onn limped out of the ship and into the light of day. Earth's hot, dry wind greeted him and sunlight shone right in his face.

The sun was closer, brighter. He could feel it on his skin, in each of his cells. He felt _stronger_ , like he had awoken from a long sleep, even as his wounds sapped his strength.

It was hotter here than it was on Mars. J'onn wasn't sure if he liked _that_ or not.

Uncomfortable, but J'onn still had to resist the urge to fall on his knees and kiss the ground.

He made it. He was alive and on Earth and he did it.

J'onn rounded his ship to the shadier side and sat down. His wounds cried out with each movement, but he grit his teeth through it.

It was quiet, save for the hiss and crackle of cooling metal, and the reality of his situation dampened his mood.

He didn't know what to do now. Civilization of any sort was likely a long distance away and there was no way he could know which direction he was supposed to head in.

Wandering in an unfamiliar place while wounded was a recipe for disaster.

He dug his fingers into the dirt. The sand was a lighter color here, not as red.

And the sky was so _blue_. He knew that Earth had a blue sky, but he didn't realize how bright and blue it could be.

He wasn't sure how long he would be allowed to enjoy it.

J'onn took in as deep a breath as he could without pain and let it out.

Okay. So he was on Earth. Now what?

His eyes flickered closed for a moment when he forced himself back to something akin to alertness.

He couldn't go to sleep now. He wasn't in the hypersleep chamber, which was likely damaged in the impact.

Instead, he leaned forward, wincing, and rested his elbows on his knees.

A plan. He needed a plan.

But there was this _noise_ , just barely detectable by his ears.

It might have been the rushing of blood in his ears, but it didn't sound _right_.

No, that was definitely something different.

He looked out, searching for a source, squinting against the glare of the sun. Just before he accepted the fact that he was likely entering some kind of madness, something caught his eye.

There were dark shapes in the distance, one in the sky and a few on the ground.

He just watched as they got closer and closer. He could see the dust being thrown up by the land-vehicles. That seemed pretty real to J'onn. Not a hallucination.

The object in the air got louder and louder and he realized that it was a vehicle with metal blades slicing through the air.

A detached curiosity, instead of fear of the unknown, took over him.

So, the things in the ground and in the air were likely human vehicles. They likely detected his entrance into the Earth's atmosphere and were coming to investigate.

Five land-vehicles and humans poured out, yelling and snapping at each other in a language he couldn't understand. The air-vehicle hovered at a distance, probably to monitor him and his movements from afar.

It was smart strategy: surround the unknown, make sure the unknown didn't try anything.

And at that moment, J'onn J'onzz remembered _why_ Martians never left Mars to visit Earth. Sure, some adventurous few would go down, disguised as humans, to do some 'sightseeing'. And they would return to tell everyone about how primitive and _angry_ humans were.

But the last time anyone from Mars went to Earth was over a century ago. J'onn wasn't entirely sure what to expect.

The instinct to shapeshift and hide his true form from them came too late. They had seen him and his ship. They knew that he was not from Earth, that he was different.

And if he knew anything about Earth, he knew that, more often than not, humans feared what looked different from them.

So, he probably should have expected an armed mob.

They surrounded him quickly, barking words that made no sense to J'onn. They seemed less primitive than what he had heard, but they were still angry. These humans were angry and afraid. It came off of them in waves. J'onn didn't need to look into their minds to see that. Not that he wanted to look in their minds.

He didn't know what he would see or if he could see into their minds. It was a crime to look into someone's mind without their permission on Mars.

He was afraid, too. He was defenseless and he was surrounded. Maybe he could bend those rules, if it meant that he would survive.

J'onn held up his hand, keeping the other close to his body, trying to keep some space between him and the humans.

"Don't hurt me," he said, "Please don't hurt me."

There was more yelling, more words he couldn't understand, more weapons pointed at him.

Of course, they didn't understand him. It was worth a shot.

They charged him and he didn't fight back. He didn't have the energy to do much of anything. If he was to die there, so be it.

He just lay there as they closed in on him, wrestling him to his feet again and dragging him to a nearby vehicle.

One of the humans brought the butt of their weapon down into J'onn's ribcage. J'onn wheezed, a new pain blooming over his skin.

Before he could think to lash out and make the human pay for what he did, the human struck him across the brow and the world went blissfully dark again.

…

 **It has begun…**

 **All feedback is appreciated!**

 **Cheers!**

 **~Tiara of Sapphires**


	2. Chapter 2

**Enjoy!**

…

The sun was too bright and her tongue was too dry and her bed was…empty? Oh yeah, she didn't go out the night before. She just drank, alone in her apartment.

Fuck. She shouldn't have had that much to drink.

Wasting away her severance pay on alcohol. It had been a great idea at the time. Kara would be disappointed in her, but at least she wasn't clubbing.

With a guttural groan, Alex rolled over in her bed.

She should've gone into medicine. Sure, she had an MD, but she didn't have residency experience or anything like that.

It would take time. And she didn't exactly have an abundance of that.

Her job-searching—or lack thereof—woes could only continue.

Alex could imagine the job interview.

'Why did you get fired from your old job?' they would ask.

And she would reply, 'Oh, I slept with my boss and got fired when we were caught.'

Yeah, hospitals would be _raring_ to hire her. This was real life, not some shitty hospital drama.

Typical, that the boss would keep his job and just pay a fine to the company for making the company look bad. But as the CEO, she supposed he had some leeway over what kind of punishment he'd get.

She didn't even have the honor of clearing out her own desk, holding her head up in pride and defiance. They just pushed a cardboard box with her stuff in a haphazard heap into her arms and told her to get out.

Fuck. _Fuck_.

She stumbled to the bathroom and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

Nothing like getting heartbroken and fired in the same week.

Fuck Max Lord. Fuck that guy.

Her bathroom was cold and comforting, as pathetic as the whole idea of it was. She was pathetic, slumped on the ground in a pitiful hung-over heap with a mouth that tasted like bile and cheap whiskey.

"Come on, Alex. Time to get off your ass," Alex muttered to herself.

The ground tipped slightly as she stood. She brushed her teeth and changed into something that didn't smell like booze. It ended up being a pair of beat-up sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Her stomach called for food, but her couch cried louder to be lain on. And so she did.

Lethargy and a headache: a great combination.

Food and then job-searching. Her resume wasn't that bad.

She was bound to find work eventually. At least she needed to find it before her severance pay ran out because after that she would have to dip into her savings and when that ran out she would be in _big_ trouble.

Kara worried enough about her. Alex didn't need to be helped.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

Maybe after a nap, a solution would find its way to her. At least maybe she could sleep off her hangover.

She didn't get far into that before a series of short knocks at her door caught her attention.

"Wazzit?" she grumbled.

She didn't move from where she lay on her couch, hoping that whoever was at her door would go away. But they knocked again, this time more loudly.

"One second!" she yelled.

She thumped her head once on the couch cushion, cursing the day she was born, before shuffling over to the door.

Alex opened the door, hoping to give whoever it was a piece of her mind, only to draw short.

There were two people at her doorstep, a man and a woman, in full military dress uniform. And they both had handguns holstered to their waists.

Okay. Not going to yell at them.

The man stepped forward, just a tiny movement but enough to have Alex's heart jump in her throat.

"Alexandra Danvers?"

Alex sighed. Great, they were using her full name. This was serious.

She replied, "Alex. Who are you?"

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel James Harper. United States Army," he said. He gestured to the woman next to him. "This is Major Lucy Lane."

Alex nodded.

"May we come in?" Lane asked.

Okay. _That_ question was either going to lead to something horrible or something not-horrible. She wasn't sure which one it was yet. Nobody was dead, she knew that the military wouldn't come to her door to tell her someone she knew had died in an accident or whatever.

But they weren't breaking out the handcuffs to take her away so she assumed that it was likely the latter.

And yet…

"My apartment is kind of a mess," she warned.

"We don't mind," Harper allowed, waving forward. "Please."

Alex backed away, holding the door open for them.

"Sit down in the living room," Alex said, wincing as she looked down at herself.

God, she looked like an utter slob in her sweatpants and shirt, while her guests were in starched military regalia.

Lane planted herself on Alex's couch while Harper stayed standing.

Alex sat down at the other end of the couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

Then, there was the panic. What if they wanted information about something? Some sort of investigation into Lord Technologies?

Because she and Max were close, fuck-buddies, practically in a romantic relationship. If they were looking into him, they would obviously look at her, as the ex-lover and ex-employee.

But Alex never pried or snooped, and he seemed clean for the most part. But he could've been hiding something from her.

"Does this have to do with Lord Tech? Because if something was going on, I knew nothing about it," Alex started, nervousness coloring her voice.

Harper smiled at her like she was a child who just did something mildly amusing.

"No, this doesn't have to do with your former employer."

Alex let her shoulders sag a bit in relief.

"Okay. So, why are you here?" she asked.

Harper gestured at Lane, who poked through her briefcase and pulled out a folder, handing it to Harper.

He opened the file, skimming through one of the many papers with a nonchalance that looked clearly fake to Alex. "We understand that you hold both an MD and a Masters in bioengineering? Stanford, graduated summa cum laude?"

Alex nodded slowly. "Yeah."

So the file was about her. How long were they collecting information about her?

"And, as of last month, you were working as a chief bioengineer for Lord Technologies?"

She resisted the urge to grind her teeth over the memory. She had a stable job and income, her loans slowly but surely being paid off, and she was falling for a man who she thought was falling for her too.

She nodded blankly.

"We want to offer you a government contract, working at one of our facilities."

Huh?

Just like that? They were offering her a job?

Clearly, the shock was apparent on her face, much to the amusement of the two people across from her.

"A job," she choked out. "Doing what?"

"It's classified," Harper replied. And clearly he was waiting to say those words, if the tiniest eye-roll from Lane told Alex anything.

Alex scoffed.

'Classified'. Of course, it's classified. The first real job she'd been offered and they can't tell her what her job even is.

But a job was a job. And it wasn't likely that they were hiring her for something nefarious.

Unless it had to do with some biological weapon or something like that. But even then she didn't have any experience with that.

So, why offer her a job?

Harper continued, "But you have the repertoire to fulfill the needs that we have in this assignment."

And there it was. They were playing to her ego. But she never had much of an ego to begin with so, she wasn't swayed. Yet.

"I don't know. That sounds really shady and I don't want any trouble," Alex said, trailing off, looking for more information, what was in it for her, _anything_.

Harper smirked and nodded.

"I see. You're a smart girl. And just to show you how serious we are…"

He reached into his jacket pocket—Alex tried not to flinch at the movement—and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Alex and she unfolded it.

It was a check, official US Treasury paper.

But that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the amount. She blinked at the number of zeroes, her heart clenching in her chest.

It was more than she made in three months at her old job. Definitely more than that. And it was in her hands, apparently no strings attached.

"Uh," Alex mumbled, unintelligently.

"That's what you will be receiving monthly," he said.

Harper gestured at Lane, who stood.

"We'll give you an hour to think it over," he mused. "And will be back to ask for your decision. If you agree, we will immediately take you to the site. So get yourself ready."

Alex stood as well, trailing behind them as they made for the door. Then Harper turned, making Alex freeze.

And then he smirked, a light in his eyes that was slightly concerning.

"I forgot to mention, if you agree, you will be charged with espionage and treason if you speak of what you see to anyone."

Alex kept her face as stoic as possible.

What an asshole.

"Alright. Sounds fair."

Lane chimed in, sounding _slightly_ less asshole-y than her partner, "We will be back in one hour for your answer."

Alex nodded sharply and shut the door behind them.

She stood there, staring at the cracked paint of her front door.

Then, she took out her phone and dialed Kara's number.

Strange, how Alex spent most of her formative years taking care of Kara but now that they were both adults, it was Alex, more often than not, asking, begging for guidance.

Because holy shit what the hell just happened?

They—whoever they were—were probably monitoring her calls, but since she didn't know what this contract was all about, she supposed it didn't matter.

After the fourth ring, Kara's voice chirped through the phone.

"Hey, Alex, what's up?"

What _was_ up? What the hell was Alex supposed to say? This wasn't like anything she had ever been offered before. She had been excited when she was first hired by Lord Technologies but the very idea of this offer made her…uneasy.

"Um, you know I got fired from my job a couple weeks ago?" Alex started, returning to sit on her couch.

"Well, yeah. What about it? Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, knowing that Kara couldn't see the motion. Of course Kara would assume something was wrong. Then again, Alex wasn't entirely sure herself whether or not something was wrong.

"No, no, It's just…some guy, er, guy and girl from the military came to my door just now. Offered me a contract. And it's a lot of money. But, I don't know what they expect me to do."

"Well, you're a bioengineer. Maybe they need one of those?"

Alex glanced at the check.

"But, bioengineers don't make nearly this much money, not even through a government contract."

Fuck, it was enough to pay for her rent for a _year_. And she hadn't even done anything yet.

"What am I supposed to do?" Alex wondered. "I mean, the money is good, in theory."

"Alex," Kara sighed. "If you're having _that_ much trouble with your bills, you can live in my apartment and we can split the rent. Until you get back on your feet."

"No. I'm not sleeping on your couch."

"Come on, it's a nice couch!"

"And I don't want to have to deal with listening to you banging your coworker every other night."

There was a pause on the other end.

"Well, okay fine, you have a point."

Alex looked off into the distance, considering her options.

"Alright. I'm going to do it," she said. "And if this is a bad idea, I'll tell them I resign and that I'll keep my mouth shut. Hopefully they'll let me keep the first check."

"Hey, they might even buy your silence. You'll be set for life!"

Alex didn't point out that it would also mean that she'd get to live in fear of the government offing her to keep their secrets. She let Kara focus on the money. It was better than making her worry.

"Maybe it's some top-secret Roswell Area 51 type stuff," Kara joked.

Alex rolled her eyes.

"You've been talking to Winn way too much."

There was a beat of silence.

"Alright, I'll call you as soon as I can. Love you."

"Love you too, sis. Make good choices!" Kara chirped, just before her voice cut out.

Alex scoffed and then the smile disappeared. She knew what she had to do.

Fuck Lord Technology and their cheating, backstabbing CEO and their severance pay.

She showered, got dressed, and forced herself to eat something, stifling the nerves that made her stomach twist.

She was doing this. She was definitely doing this.

When there was a knock at the door, Alex shouldered her bag and nodded to the man and woman when she answered.

"I'm in."

...

After they had her sign some papers—most of them boiling down to 'don't say anything to anyone or you will be thrown in prison for the rest of your short life'—they ushered her out of her apartment.

She wondered what this would have looked like to her neighbors, being paraded down the halls. But it was after most people had left for work, so they ran into very few people, people who just stared in confusion and amazement.

They put her in one of the many SUVs they had parked in the back alley of her apartment building. Harper climbed in the seat next to her.

The windows were blacked-out, so she couldn't tell where they were going. The driver and the man next to her were stony and silent. Not that she wanted to engage in small talk anyway.

What could they talk about?

'How's your day going?' 'What's your favorite color?' 'Can you turn on the radio?'

Alex just clutched onto her bag and prayed to any god who would listen that she wasn't about to be taken out to the desert to be executed or something.

Kara knew that she took the job. She would say something if Alex wasn't heard from again, right? Leak the story to her boss in the media, demand answers.

It took over an hour; probably much more than an hour, but time seemed to bleed together as Alex tried not to go stir-crazy in her seat.

They stopped in front of a gate and the driver's side window opened. The driver flashed something at the man in the camouflage uniform and bulletproof vest. Then they started moving again.

They travelled for another minute and Alex could feel them heading down a ramp. The natural sunlight dimmed and was replaced by harsh overhead lights.

Finally, they stopped.

"Come on," Harper said gruffly.

Alex didn't protest and forced herself out of the car.

They were underground, the ceiling low enough to make Alex feel vaguely claustrophobic.

She didn't know where they were, which was both disorienting and terrifying. Some top-secret facility in the desert, probably.

Harper gestured that she follow him, Lane bringing up the rear.

Few people stopped to look at her. Most of them were stoically, single-mindedly, going about their business.

A lot of people, but very little life.

Harper led her into a room and, with little ceremony, started conducting tests.

They X-rayed her and her bag, scanned her retinas, fingerprinted her, weighed her, and even took a sample of her blood and saliva She wasn't sure what kind of database they were going to compare it to—okay she might've gotten in some trouble in college—but she didn't argue.

Alex knew she was in no real position to argue when there was someone with a machine gun standing guard around every corner of the facility.

So she let them do their tests and compose their file on her and take her cellphone and put it in a little bin at the front desk.

They gave her a plastic nametag and a white lab coat with orders that she return latter and keep the former when she left.

She didn't protest and she let Harper and Lane lead her down a long, sterile-looking hallway to a set of double-doors, guarded by three heavily armed men.

The three men saluted and the door opened, to yet another empty room. This time, a metal table sat in the middle and a large window covered most of the back wall, next to another door.

"Go on," Harper ordered, gesturing at the door in front of them.

Alex straightened and stepped forward. There was a small panel on the side of the door where a card could be slid through.

She unclipped her nametag and slid it through. The light turned from red to green as the lock clicked.

This was the moment of truth. Why she was here. What they wanted with her.

She pulled the door open and stepped through into the room, the two others closing in behind her.

Alex was pretty sure her heart stopped the moment she laid eyes on him.

"My God," she breathed.

A figure, tall and muscular and donning a strange armor lay on the floor. For a moment, Alex wasn't sure if she was hallucinating or not. Because it couldn't have been possible. What she was seeing couldn't have been possible.

She wanted to turn around and demand to Harper as to what the hell was going on. But her eyes were fixed forward, at the—the _man_ on the floor.

He was injured. That was obvious, painfully obvious.

His green—green!—skin had an unhealthy pale-grey tint to it. Some of his skin was raw and exposed, some of it blackened and blistered, like he had been burned.

His red eyes were glassy, gazing at something that wasn't actually there. If it weren't for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, Alex wouldn't have been sure if he was even still alive.

Alex assumed he was a he, judging by the slight rise between his legs and the lack of breasts.

Purely a clinical observation. Male. He.

But, whoever… _whatever_ was lying on the ground was definitely not human. And most likely not from Earth to begin with. So what the fuck did she know?

"What did you do to him?" Alex asked, horror leaking into the question.

She tore her eyes from the injured being to glare at Harper.

"He crash-landed near the edge of the Mojave Desert," he said. His voice had an edge of sadistic glee that sent a chill down Alex's spine. "He was like this when we found him."

Alex choked back a near-hysterical laugh.

She wasn't sure if she wanted to run and help him or run out the room and beg them to wipe her memory or whatever they were planning on doing to her if she backed out of this.

No amount of money was worth this. This creature. This alien. This being.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

Help. Run. Help. Run.

Help.

Something seemed to put steel in her spine as she closed the space between this man—she settled on calling him a man—and her.

She knelt down, but survival instincts had her unwilling to get _too_ close to him. She didn't know anything about him. Who he was, what he was, what he could do to her.

Alex could tell most of the wounds were older, but there was a fresh-looking bruise—at least she was pretty sure it was a bruise—blooming at the bottom of his ribcage. And there was another one forming a knot just above his left eye.

'Like this when we found him.' Right.

She lightly touched the bruise on his abdomen and he winced. Alex recoiled, unsure if he was going to lash out and attack her. He was bigger than she was and likely twice, maybe more, times stronger that she was. One hit could probably knock her out, if not kill her.

Maybe that was why the government wanted someone under a government contract to do this. If he killed her, they could easily cover up her death.

 _Their_ doctors were too valuable. She was a civilian, technically. It made her expendable.

"I'm a bioengineer, not a medical doctor," she whispered.

"You have an MD, don't you?" Harper replied archly.

There were many times Alex regretted being an overachiever. This was definitely one of them. Getting a Masters and an MD, nearly killing herself over the workload, got her where? Here? Kneeling next to something that was clearly not human in a top-secret military facility?

"I'm not a _practicing_ medical doctor," Alex amended, irritation and some kind of righteous anger sharpening her words.

Did they not bother trying to help him before she came here? There were no signs of other medical intervention, not even a goddamn band-aid. What would happen if she left? Would they find another doctor? Or would they just let him alone on the metallic floor, to either recover by himself or die?

For Christ's sake, they didn't even give him a _bed_. What kind of unfeeling people was she dealing with?

Her hands shook, unsure of what to do or where to start.

If she started to help him, she knew she couldn't go back. He would become her source of income, her responsibility, her secret, her burden.

But this…man-humanoid-man looked so sad and pathetic where he lay on the floor. And she knew that it would haunt her for the rest of her life if she did nothing.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Lane asked.

She sounded less mocking than her superior, but still the sound of it grated on Alex's nerves. It sounded like a challenge. And if they were playing to her ego again, it was definitely working.

"I'm up for this," Alex snapped.

Alex wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, collecting herself.

She forgot a _lot_ of things after her stint in medical school. But she definitely remembered the class where they talked about how to treat burns, because the professor saw fit to show the most gruesome pictures as examples for each kind of burn.

And these were definitely second-degree and third-degree burns.

"I need towels, gauze, water, antiseptic, anesthetic, and an IV," she ordered. "And I need a mattress for him to lie on."

…

 **Feedback is appreciated!**


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